


Seraglio

by AngeDeLumiere



Category: Finder no Hyouteki | Finder Series
Genre: Anal Sex, Lots of Sex, M/M, PWP, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sultans and sex slaves, it's just sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-02
Updated: 2014-12-02
Packaged: 2018-02-27 22:16:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2708672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngeDeLumiere/pseuds/AngeDeLumiere
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Asami makes good on Akihito's promise to play sultan and sex slave.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Seraglio

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kunoichi of the Moonlit Night](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Kunoichi+of+the+Moonlit+Night).



> A/N: 
> 
> This is a gift-fic for Kunoichi of the Moonlit Night. She (I am taking liberties and am assuming that you are a girl), got a nosebleed at the thought of Sultan Asami and slave Akihito. This takes place in the same universe as My Sunshine, but is a separate deal. It takes place about a year after that story, so no spoilers.
> 
> This was beta-ed by my boyfriend (whom I am mad at). But he wanted to know just what my ‘photo-porn’ was about, as he calls it. At least I got to kill two birds with one stone. And I doubt he will ever ask about photo-porn again.

The midsummer air kissed his naked body like a lover, lathering intangible caresses up and down his body. His golden skin shivered as the boy’s chest heaved. Large eyes, covered by a blindfold (the only fabric on his body) darted in the darkness. Had he been there for minutes or hours, his lissome body on display like art? The boy could sense the powerful presence of his lover, hovering nearby, and he shifted again, tugging against the chains that had erstwhile warmed against his wrists. 

Lassitude clung to the sultan like a second skin, as tiger eyes watched the trembling boy. He reclined on his throne, a cigar tucked lackadaisically between two fingers, and the smoke above him like a crown. His prize from conquest, his treasured beauty that the world coveted. The lovely boy had lain there for quite some time, and Asami was content to let him stay so a little while longer. The night was young, but it had taken months to plan. He was going to savor it succulently. 

Only Asami and Kirishima knew the location of the seraglio, and Kirishima really wished he didn’t. It was tucked safely away, to be used on only on special occasions. Like tonight. Akihito was draped over mountains of feather pillows, deep reds and sensual purples contrasting with the warm gold of his skin. The colors evoked royal luxuriance, echoing everything in Asami’s life. The colors complemented the slave perfectly, but Asami liked best how his boy’s body undulated, chest heaving with heady anticipation. 

Legs shifted, tugging at the chains the wound delicately around them, clinging like a spider’s web. Though the chains were not as taut on the cuffs on his arms, Akihito’s legs opened. His prepossessing little cock was coroneted by a cage, slowly purpling as he bucked his hips, desperate for the painful friction. The sultan licked his lips and stubbed his cigarette in the porcelain tray shaped like an elephant. He had waited long enough. 

“Ryu,” Akihito groaned as the sultan slipped the blindfold off. Hazel eyes blinked, trying to adjust to the dancing candlelight, but his gaze focused on Asami, as if he could only seem him. As if he was his whole world. 

Asami grinned wickedly and without warning, twisted a dusky nipple. Akihito choked on his wet gasp, body arching into Asami’s calloused grip despite the efflorescent pain. “You will call me master, my pretty little slave,” the sultan reminded in his rumbling voice. 

The slave quivered. His lover’s deep baritone sent tingles down his spine, making his compressed cock twitch in agonizing arousal. “Yes…ahh, Master,” he groaned mellifluously. 

“Good boy,” the sultan petted his downy locks. 

He rose to his knees, fingers stripping away his silk tie. He preferred having Akihito undress him, but the boy was too enticing bound up, a sumptuous feast for a starving man. He would melt slowly on Asami’s tongue, and they would both crave the salacious treat. 

“Shall I blindfold you, again?” he asked his boy. His voice rumbled low in his chest, trapped behind his pounding heart. “And make you only feel as I split you wide open? I will be all you are able to feel, to smell, your entire existence. 

“I could shove a vibrator up your tight ass. Would you like that? You would lay here, writhing for hours as you fuck yourself, yet unable to come. You will beg for it, cry for your release, yet it won’t come. And you will love every second of it.”

Akihito jerked his arms. The chains rattled and did not give an inch. He groaned as the sultan’s thumb drug across a perky nipple, making Asami hum in delight. “I’ll make you suck my cock,” Asami whispered in his ear. His breath was moist, hot, and it made the slave’s spine jolt with heady electricity. “I am going to shove it so far down your throat that you won’t be able to breathe. You’ll be able to smell me for days.”

Hazel eyes squeezed tightly shut. He could picture every dirty thing Asami whispered. The velvet hairs on his skin rose in anticipation. So good. It would be so good, ad h wanted it all. “Ryu,” his lover’s name slipped through his teeth as he gasped for cool air. “Please.”

He was on his side and heat bloomed on his ass before he could process what had happened. Asami clicked his tongue disapprovingly, and the hits rained down. It hurt, this was punishment. Open palmed swats set fire to his tender skin, and after each blow, Asami made sure to grab ahold of his ass. That forced the sting in deep, resonating up his spin and into his brain. 

Oh yes. This was punishment. But it felt so good that Akihito squirmed, tush coming back to meet the hits. “Master,” he pled breathlessly, not entirely ready for the spanking to end. “Master…master!”

After the tenth blow, Asami rubbed tantalizing rings on the inflamed globes. The slave hiccuped and humped in pain, but he was moaning so loudly that his master laughed lowly. “Remember your lesson, slave,” the sultan pressed a kiss into the hollow of his neck. 

“O master, my master,” the love slave moaned out the adjusted poem. 

The sultan kept nipping at his collar bone. “This is such a good look for my pretty boy. Trussed up and mine for the taking.” His becoming boy was a visage, lithe body bare, bandaged in chains and the only key was around Asami’s neck. Akihito could feel it press into his chest as Asami tasted him. The sultan had total control over his paramour, and would indulge himself endlessly. “And I will take you slowly, at first, and then so hard that you won’t be able to move.”

The world was silent, save for the tinkling fountain int he corner that fed the hot tub, and Akihito’s ragged breaths. Yes, oh yes. He wanted all of that. Asami’s seraglio could have been atop a bucolic castle, or buried deep within the brightest building in Shinjuku. He could see the ethereal silver light of the moon slip through the gossamer curtains, and the helpless boy knew hew was quite alone. 

A heavy hand slipped between his legs, flitting over sensitive balls. Reflexively, Akihito tried to close them. Gold eyes narrowed as Asami pulled back, and the slave boy knew he had made a huge mistake. 

“Oh no, pet. What do you think you are doing?”

“Master,” Akihito gulped. “I––”

“Do you think you have any command over your body? That you have any say in what happens tonight?”

Thick fingers swirled around his rosebud, ghosting over the trembling flesh. Akihtio tried to clear his head, and find the words to assuage the sultan’s wrath. “no,” his mouth was so dry, making his tongue heavy and bulbous. His words tumbled out slowly, incoherently.

“Because you are mine, Akihito. Mine. So i get to do what I want to you, when I want to. You cannot stop me from playing with my toys,” the man said coyly. 

“Yes, master,” the sexy slave knew what was coming, and tried to relax. Asami shoved two fingers deep inside of him, knuckle deep.He pulled them back out until only the tips were left. He then stretched his fingers wide apart, as far as they would go. Akihito shrieked loudly, the pain almost too much to bear. Asami kissed the tears that gather in the corners of his eyes as his fingers collapsed. They were back deep inside Akihito’s ass, stroking his prostate until white hot please surged through is body. Pain forgotten, he arched and struggled against his chains and his cock cage.

Oh God. He needed it so bad. He needed his master’s hand all over him, his glorious cock buried deep inside his hot channel. Why or why had he jerked away from Asami’s touch when he needed it more than air? He whimpered and shook his head, trying to remember the words he needed to say. His brain had lit up like a firework, but the only thing he could process was the thick, calloused fingers that played his body like a harp. 

“Master,” he managed to wheeze out. His head rested on the sultan’s shoulder, his eyes half lidded and his mouth open. “I need you.”

Asami plunged his tongue into the boy’s waiting mouth. Akihito thrust his hips backwards, impaling himself on fingers that danced in sync with his master’s tongue. Lips pressed together with bruising force, and Akihito moaned so loudly that it rattled Asami’s bones. 

He kept chanting master over and over, his breath mixing with the sultan’s, and when Asami pulled away, Akihito took his breath with him. The boy’s body trembled in unmitigated desire, like an unsullied virgin but the look of his chatoyant eyes was positively whorish. A sacrifice of the temple priest for a licentious god. A vestal virgin for the taking. The hardness between his legs became too pressing to ignore. 

The slave boy whimpered as his lover pulled away. Asami held his gaze as he stood. The thin leather belt whistled as he pulled it off, making heat pool in Aki’s belly. “You’re going to suck me off,” his voice echoed in the large room.

“Yes!” Akihito yanked at his chains, trying to clamber to his knees. “Yes, master!” 

Liquid gold eyes glistened in triumph. Walking away, he reveled in the boy’s protesting whines. However, he was not going to let Akihito free without chaining him in another way. Picking up his sought after trinket, Asami returned to his love prize. 

The boy’s eyes narrowed, but still, he craned his neck obediently. The collar slipped around his throat easily, and snapped shut so softly that Akihito almost did not hear it over his own heartbeat. He understood the significance, though. He was willingly giving himself over to Asami, submitting and relinquishing ownership over his soul. For now, and for eternity, he belonged to Asami Ryuichi. 

The collar was beautiful, not that Akihito could see it. It was a burnished gold, with black leather laced through the links. The lock rested just above the hollow in his throat, and Asami Ryuichi was engraved around the keyhole. That way, the whole world could see to whom Akihito belonged. 

The cuffs around his wrists fell away, and Akihito was on his knees before his overlord and master as Asami hung the key back around his neck. Teeth nipping at the trouser’s button, his fingers danced along the top of his pants. The sultan’s chest heaved just once was his lover pulled the zipper down with his teeth. He obliged the boy by stepping out of his pants. 

Akihito licked his lips and descended on Asami’s cock. Gripping his master’s tush firmly, the slave kneaded the soft mounds as he took the hard rod into his mouth in one swoop. It was impossibly big, forcing its way past his gag reflex and down his throat. The tangy musk that was Asami filled his nostrils, as he inhaled deeply and clenched his throat muscles around the mammoth dick. He secretly hoped Asami was right, that Akihito would smell his lover’s cock for days to come. It was the best smell in the whole world. 

Hollowing his cheeks, he pulled back, sucking with all of his might. This hard rod, diaphanous silk over titanium, that cleaved him in two and bound him irrevocably to his master, deserved to be worshiped. So he took his time: sucking, and licking. Stroking Asami’s heavy balls, rubbing loving circles on the sultan’s taint. Digging sharp nails into the white flesh of his butt and thighs. 

He sucked until Asami could take it no more. The flood gates burst, and Asami came with a guttural grunt. His beautiful slave drank it greedily, lapping the head of his cock wit his soft, pink tongue. 

*

He was on his stomach, his legs chained open wide. Asami rubbed his ass with lotion. His hips were propped up by a mountain of pillows, a treasure ready to be plundered. The slave sighed as his master teased his tight hole with the emollient. He wiggled in excitement of the torrid stretch and earth-shattering fuck that would follow. 

Asami was moving slowly tonight. He still had hours to wring every last ounce of pleasure out of his boy. For now, he watched the flickering candles dance across gleaming skin, casting purple shadows and creating a penumbra between milky mounds. 

“Master,” Akihito called dissolutely. 

Asami could not wait much longer. The boy was a bundle of debauched nerves, ready to unravel at the slightest touch. So close to his breaking point, and when he begged so dulcetly, Asmai had to indulge him. 

His tongue dipped into that clenching sphincter, massaging it wide open. He fingered the boy’s taint as he tasted him. Akihito humped against his face, using his own hands to spread his ass even wider. “Master,” he rubbed his cheek against he plethora of pillows. “Gahh…ma…sahh…”

Slipping the cock ring off, Asami gave the boy to hard strokes. His erection bloomed, and it looked so painful that Asami almost felt sorry for Akihito. Almost. 

Falling forward onto his elbows, Asami thrust into his lissome lover, all the way to the hilt. Akihito’s scream stirred the primal dom in him. He loved owning Aki, his mind and body at Asami’s disposal. Listening to the boy’s hedonistic sobs as overwhelming pleasure coursed through his tiny body made him pull out, only to sheath himself in deep once gain. 

He fucked his boy raw. The sound of flesh slapping flesh reverberated in his skull. Akihito’s cried harmonized with his grunts. Swear slicked his skin, and when Asami started stroking his prostate, Akihito came with suck a force that Asami was afraid his soul would fall out of his lips. 

“No!” snarled the sultan roughly. Pistoning his hips with such jarring force, he ripped Akihito away from the throes of unconsciously. Bending double, he grabbed the boy’s chin in a bruising grip and twisted violently. Lips clashed together. He would force Akihito’s soul into his body, locking it in a cage of light that only Asami could touch. 

Mine! He bit Akihito’s lower lip, drawing out his coppery life blood. All mine. All the while, he fucked the boy brutally, the heat between them an anchor to reality. 

*

Asami was on his back, his hands holding onto his slave’s mile-long legs. Akihito ground down on his cock, squirming as it impaled him. Balls slapped at his perfect ass from the force. The boy’s hands were locked behind him in leather cuffs, forcing his hips to jut out. A pink cock, glistening with cum and precum, pointed at his enraptured face, not that Akihito could open his eyes to see it. No, he was lost in the numbing sensations, sweeping him away in an erotic current. 

The boy’s head had rolled to the side, his tongue pinched between pearly white teeth. His shaking legs pushed himself up, clenching hole squeezing on Asami’s dick. The sultan’s own gravity pulled him back down, heat seeking heat. No matter how quickly he pulled up, how hard he tried to get away, Asami’s lure was too strong. The boy would never escape his lover. 

His back arched, his heart throbbed and he moans lilted lasciviously, going straight to Asami’s cock. The collar enclosing on his neck was attached to his restraints, exposing his neck vulnerably. Should he feel so inclined, Asami could gnaw and lick that white column as he languidly fucked the boy. Akihito was at his disposal, but he found that his desire was to make his boy’s pleasure paramount. So when he flipped them over, splaying Akihito legs and teasing his delectable cock, Asami swore it was not his fault. 

Akihito was the one who seduced him again and again.

*

His master smelled of ash and petrichor, for he owned the world, and took whatever he wished. Akihito loved him desperately, despite that. There was no better music than listening to his breathy grunts as he fucked his beloved possession. And when he came, Aki’s name was a hissed utterance that fell from his lips almost by accident. The sex slave knew his master loved him, though he never said it. Words were ineffable, stuck somewhere deep inside of him, but Akihito knew just the same.

The way Asami gently stroked his side, having pulled his lover against him in his sleep, said more than words ever could. The languor of the night seeped into their sweat soaked bodies, and Akihito closed his eyes for just a moment, content in his lover’s embrace. 

*

The water of the fountain trickled as it dropped into the warm water. The tintinnabulation was soothing as he soaked his stretched and strained muscles. Asami sat across from him, his head rolling back and his arms propped on the edge of the stone encased tub. It was like an indoor onsen. The room smelled like sex, the overpowering musk touching everything in sight. Akihito had felt his lover’s cum drip out of his seizing hole as Asami carried him to the balmy water. They had gone three rounds that night, slow and tortuous. He knew that his lover was giving a moment of respite before round four. 

“Master Ryu,” the slave looked through charcoal lashes at his reclining owner. 

Asami cracked an eye open. Akihito’s pink lips puckered, and the water reflected on his skin, making him look like a nereid trying to seduce the sailor. And did he ever. Asami extended a hand, and with a jubilant grin, Akihito quickly swam to his lover. Hands joining, Asami wrapped his arm around the boy, pulling him close by his side. 

The slave nuzzled his overlord’s neck appreciatively, licking and kissing the tasty flesh. Asami moaned, shifting his legs. He had planned on giving his lover another hour to relax, but if the boy was going to use that wicked little tongue, Asami was going to flip him on his belly and fuck him raw. After a moment, the slave settled down comfortably into his lover’s arms. Their hearts were beating softly, the warm water rejuvenating swollen and tired muscled. 

Asami was intemperate in how he sought his pleasures; he made no apologies for it. It had been bred into him from birth. The opulence of the seraglio was a testament to that. He enjoyed what his wealth and position afforded him and took pleasure in many vast and varied ways. Akihito never refused him, no matter how absurd or irritating the demands were. In return, he gave the boy everything he could. They were an equal and balanced, cherished and loved. They always would be. Together.

“I love you,” Akihito whispered into the light air. Beside him, Asami stiffened. He always tensed whenever his boy felt the need to declare sentimentality. Akihito kept lathering kisses on his chest, his hands dipping below the water to stroke at a rapidly stiffening cock. 

“I know you know it, and that you can’t say it back,” the slave continued. “That’s fine, Ryu.” He sent his lover a saucy wink, lips curling over pointy teeth as he envisioned his punishment for breaking character. “In quiet moments like these, though, just when you are about to fall asleep…” Akihito leaned in close, his soft lips dancing over the shell of Asami’s ear. The sultan groaned lowly, eyes clamped shut as he tried to hold on to his scene. The lovestruck fixer was quickly surfacing. 

“I just like to remind you how very loved you are…”

The crime lord moaned, the scene shattering before his eyes. Not that he cared. His little lover had wiggled onto his lap, their wet bodies pressed tightly together as Akihito shoved his tongue inside of his mouth. The impudent brat grinned, nibbling at Asami’s lower lip as his hands grasped that glorious cock. Rather than waiting for his lover to take control, Asami thrust upwards. He was deep inside before Akihito could, but the way his name tumbled off swollen lips nearly made him come. Akihito held onto his slick shoulders tightly as Asami shoved his ardor and his love into the boy.

*

The sun was slowly rising in the horizon as he scooped the boy up in his arms. It is danced that they preform nearly every night, and it still felt fresh, as if Asami is the untouched boy about to cum in his pants. Akihito tossed his head back languidly, exposing his arched neck. It was throbbing with want. The sultan planted a kiss at the junction of his shoulder and neck as he lay him down on their massive silken bed. At dawn, the slave will fall again, and the sultan will be redeemed.

With kisses and caresses, first soft and then needy, they revived the ghosts of their pasts, and emotion shook his fingers that danced along Akihito’s delicate skin, as though he were the blazing sun. Asami closed his eyes, letting Akihito take him as he carried the boy to the edge. Everyone who knew them had heard the whispered words passing between them, as well as the desperately spoken names, the gasps and cries, the sighs of completion, the tiny pleas and the softly spoken but unbreakable vows made. What can you say when it is love, and nothing else matters? 

The room was rich with the fragrance of their passion. To the world, Asami was a monster. In the boy’s halcyon eyes, he was a man of aches, tragedy and yearning. With the rest of the world, Asami is charm and refinement personified, arrogant and dismissive as afforded by his station. The world hated him, angry at his power, his intrigue, at the empire he had created. They saw his sins plainly, and would lord them over the criminal given the chance. With Akihito, Asami only sought to give him joy. Joy that his enemies tried to steal.

He will render Akihito wanton and shameless, ardently alive and charged with need, trembling and drunk on every detail of him, but Asami will want something more than that. Together, something more equal will take place, and they lose themselves in the morning and in each other. Akihito knows that Asami is masterfully careful with him, for the efflorescent man is his only treasure and Asami values Akihito more than his own life. The unrealized misery and longing of so many years will show, and he will drink his pleasure as a lifetime of anguish dissolves when they kiss and become one.

Asami is a horror, and neither can hide from it. He has done things that he can never take back, nor does he want to, but his boy loves him regardless. If anyone were ever to watch them, they would be shocked to see how the crime lord responded when Akihito called out his name, the flurry of the desperate emotions he evokes. They would never understand it but even they would think it was remarkable.

Now, Asami will be tender with his love prize, and when his mouth touches the boy’s in a kiss, it will mean something and promise much. His hands will slide over Akihito reverently and his arms will wrap around the young man, holding him close, as he responds and touches Asami in return, drinking in the feel of him. The limits of his control will be tested, but he will not break. 

He will worship every part of the slave devoutly, and pay tribute to his limbs, his skin, his lips, his eyes, his hair, and all his smiles and secrets. He will be gentle, slow and strong as he moves in him and their heat melts the pain they have both endured. Tonight, he will submit to love, and become not it’s master, but it’s slave. When this night finally comes, his lips will brush the scar on his shoulder––the bullet wound from Yuri Arbatov––and kiss the lingering pain away. Perhaps he will shed tears as Akihito reaches for him with a small, wandering hand and caresses his face as though they were never separated. As if they shall never be separated again.

**Author's Note:**

> Okay. 
> 
> This started off as some porny smut with role play and lots of steaming sex. Because that is what I like to read. Instead, this happened. Personally, I blame the Piano Guys and Lindsey Stirling. I was listening to them as I wrote, so I am sure that their phantasmagorical music effected me greatly. 
> 
> And if anyone wonders why Asami wasn’t in costume, it is because I can’t imagine him getting his smexy one while wearing a turban. Plain and simple.


End file.
